


Murder at Number Seventeen

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: AU, Multi, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-24
Updated: 2006-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really wanted to do something special for Loyal, an amazing friend and tagging partner, without whom I could not have handled some of the past few months.  I know she likes horror movies and Halloween and stuff, but the closest I could come in a fic was a murder mystery.  Hope it suffices, and isn't too hokey ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murder at Number Seventeen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loyaldreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=loyaldreamer).



It began simply enough, though these things rarely do. Viggo had Liev tied to the bed, moaning, begging to be fucked harder, faster, crying out as Viggo licked at his jaw and chin and came deep inside his arse—no condom anymore because they had sworn faithfulness, were exclusive and God did that feel good.

The sex itself was simple enough, just the edge of spice, but Viggo decided to make it interesting—damn him for trying to be interesting, for not being satisfied with the ordinary. For if he had been all right with ordinary, Liev would still be alive.

But instead, Viggo just smiled a wicked little smile, said he'd be back, and kipped off for a shower. He took his time washing himself, humming a Spanish melody he'd almost forgotten, and he was both thoroughly clean and happy when he returned to the bedroom to find his lover, still warm, cock still hard, the same ropes Viggo had used to tie him now knotted fatally around his neck.

 

Viggo was a mess, and no one could blame him. The police came around for questioning, and he was still alone in the apartment with the body, staring at it blankly, with an odd distaste. He didn't move from the chair in the corner, and for a long while he was silent, but then they asked the question—anyone remotely suspicious in the victim's life?—and Viggo remembered something.

Sure, he had no real motive, nothing that would drive him to _kill_, at least not Liev, but Viggo was desperate for a name, for someone to tag blame onto. Dominic Purcell was certainly a name, and he was likely as any other to have done it—a shady individual, lived down the hall but rarely seen, often scowling when someone did see him. There were rumours about odd business deals, and so Viggo informed the police.

Then, he went to Mia's.

Mia lived upstairs, and she was a dear friend, a sweet girl and beautiful to boot but Viggo hadn't been interested in women in a long time, and Mia certainly had been. In fact, once Viggo finished the story, and was given the requisite comfort, she had something to tell him.

"I met this girl," she admitted, just the hint of a smile around the corners of her mouth, and Viggo smiled and grabbed her hands.

"Who is she?" he asked, the woman's excitement diverting from his own pain.

"Her name's Melinda. She showed up at the coffee shop the other day, you know, the typical deal. Got into a conversation, the word 'lesbian' came up…"

"And then you ended up shagging like bunnies in your apartment?"

"Viggo!" Mia exclaimed, grinning and blushing all at once. "Well no, but I'm hoping…"

Viggo smiled sadly. "Well I'll cross my fingers for you, kid."

 

After meeting with Mia, Viggo went downstairs and found Sean waiting for him. Sean was a good man, another neighbour, and he greeted Viggo immediately with a warm, manly hug, slap on the back and all that, before Viggo invited him inside.

"I saw the cops on my way in, mate. It happened in here?"

Viggo nodded and pointed to the bed where the faint outline of Liev's body was still visible in the sheets.

"I'm so sorry," Sean murmured, and then stepped forward to gently cover the bed with the blanket, putting coffee on without asking and then joining Viggo on the couch. "He was a good man, Liev. I'll help you get to the bottom of this, Vig. Anything you need, just ask."

Viggo offered Sean a small smile as the other man squeezed his knee and nodded. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Any idea of who it might be?" Sean asked, gently.

Viggo shrugged. "Only suspect I could think of was Dominic."

"Ooh, that prick? I wouldn't be surprised," Sean replied sympathetically. "Always knew that one was a bit of a bad apple, if yeh know what I mean. Heard some things about him."

"Things? What kind of things?" Viggo asked, curious.

Sean shrugged. "I can't be too sure, mate. He has some sort of military training though, Special Forces I think but don't quote me. I don't know _why_ he'd do it, but he'd be capable. Did Liev say anything unusual recently, anything at all that might be a clue?"

Viggo furrowed his brow and thought back over the past couple of weeks, but he couldn't come up with anything. "No… I just can't help but feeling…"

"Yeah?" Sean prodded, his tone still gentle, squeezing Viggo's shoulder this time.

"Well I can't help but feel partly responsible, Sean. I mean Liev isn't a weak guy, but I had… well… it wasn't the murderer who tied him down to the bed…" He blushed, turning away, but Sean understood.

"Ah, Vig, don't feel bad about that. This Dominic character, I mean, if he's experienced, or got guys to do it for him, Liev might not have had a chance in any case. Just because you like to have a little fun doesn't mean it's your fault."

"You don't think it's a little weird?"

"What, tying a bloke up to the bed?" Sean grinned and shook his head, and Viggo noted in the back of his mind that Sean was quite attractive when he smiled, a thought he almost immediately chided himself for. _Liev's body's not even cold, and this is how you behave?_ "That's not weird, Viggo. We all like a bit of rough once in a while."

"Oh, well, I guess…" Viggo was cut off, though, by a blood-curdling scream from upstairs, and as he looked at Sean, his eyes wide, the other man voiced what he was thinking.

"Mia."

Both men rushed for the door, taking the stairs two at a time until they reached Mia's flat. The door was wide open, but Sean stopped Viggo with a hand held out, finger over his lips. Viggo nodded and allowed Sean to go in first, slowly, ascertaining that the danger was already gone. And sure enough, there was Mia, lying in a puddle of her own blood on the couch. The shards of what was once a wine glass lay around her, wine staining her dress and legs, and the blood was pouring out of a vein in her neck.

"Already dead," Sean said in a low, reverent tone, after bending down to check for breathing, careful to avoid the blood himself. "Someone must have broken the glass and then slit her throat with the shards."

"Jesus," Viggo muttered, looking around the apartment with his fingers jammed through his hair. "Do you think it's the same…?"

"Has to be. I mean, how many crazy people are there in this building? I'd imagine that bugger Dominic found out that you'd listed him as a suspect. Must've seen you come up here, you know, afraid you were gonna talk. Killed her before she could tell anyone else."

"Fuck," Viggo exclaimed, as Sean crouched down low by the coffee table and squinted, examining another, intact, glass. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for fingerprints. No smudges, though. Must have worn gloves. Bastard must have tricked his way in here, you know… and he could've, if he's Special Forces and all. They teach them reconnaissance."

"Really?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah. Look, doorknob's clean, too," Sean added, motioning to Viggo to take a look.

"Damn. Well I guess I'd better call the police."

"Yeah. Don't know how much more they're going to find, though," Sean said with a shrug. "Trail's gone cold."

 

Across the street at the coffee shop where Mia worked, however, there was someone a little more observant than Viggo, or at least a little less emotionally involved. As Keira wiped the tables down, she watched out the window—the tall, mysterious woman who had been chatting Mia up in the shop the other day had gone into the building and come out in the space of five minutes, dressed to kill, in a stunning dress black elbow-length gloves. And Keira didn't like the look on the woman's face one bit.

 

"Just black, please."

Two days had passed. Two days, enough for Keira to hear of Mia's murder and furthermore, make a plan of action. For Keira wasn't just a simple barista. Keira knew some things.

"Here you are." Keira passed the coffee to the woman across the counter and gave her a quick once over. "That's a lovely dress."

The woman looked up, appearing a bit startled, but quickly interpreted the look in Keira's eye. "Why thank you," she replied in a low, almost sultry tone.

Keira smiled. Time to set the bait. "So have you heard about all the crazy stuff happening across the street? Suspect you haven't, or you wouldn't be in here. It's killing business, no pun intended."

The woman raised her eyebrow. "Crazy stuff?"

"Oh, yeah," Keira agreed, smiling innocently. "Friend of mine's boyfriend got shot, in fact," she ad libbed, never having met Viggo a day in her life—but that was what tied the murders together, so that was what she had to appear interested in if she was to lure this woman away. "Then later that day, my friend goes to see a girl who worked here, right? And she gets offed too, less than an hour after the first killing! Everybody's real nervous about it."

"I see," the woman replied, slowly, her eyes darting down to the gold nametag fastened to Keira's polo shirt. "Well, Keira, perhaps you could tell me more someplace a little more private? Do you have a break coming up?"

Keira smiled her best innocent smile and nodded. "In a few minutes, Miss…"

"Clarke. You can call me Melinda."

 

And sure enough, five minutes later, Melinda Clarke was lying dead in an alley behind the coffee shop. But Melinda Clarke rarely went somewhere without alerting a certain resident of #17 as to her whereabouts, and so it was just after her shift when Keira, too, got an unwelcome surprise, in the form of a man with a black ski mask, and black gloved hands, wrestling her own gun out of her holster in the same alleyway, before the body had even been discovered, and shooting her in the head.

Keira only had a few seconds before her death to realise two things—Melinda was not the one who had killed Viggo's lover, after all, and maybe this Dominic fellow was guilty after all. And then, she was lying next to Melinda in a pool of blood, her gun tucked safely in her hand.

 

When Viggo heard the news of the death of two women in the alley by the coffee shop, Sean was there with a cup of hot tea and comforting words. So that was it—Mia had been killed by a coworker, who then shot another woman and herself. Perhaps it was jealousy, Sean suggested as he wrapped a comforting arm around the man's shoulders and gave him a little squeeze.

"Jealousy?"

"Well, it's the only thing that makes sense in me head, you know, running it over. She killed Mia, right after Mia was with you… maybe she thought Mia had some sort of thing for you."

"But Mia liked women…"

"True, but this Knightly woman mightn't have known that she didn't like men, too. Did you ever eat in the coffee shop?"

"Sure, all the time."

"So there you are. They say stalkers can do some crazy things, you know, really obsessed. It's horrible Vig, what's happened, but you're probably better off now that she's dead. The way I see it, she must've killed Liev to get to you, and then killed Mia because she was jealous and afraid and thought Mia might suspect something."

"And this Melinda woman? Mia seemed pretty into her…"

"Well there you have it. Maybe Melinda threatened her with information. If Mia suspected, you know, she might've gone to Keira directly for revenge, not thinking like."

Viggo frowned and nodded. "It does make a lot of sense…"

"It'll be all right, Vig. Come here," Sean beckoned, pulling Viggo into his arms on the couch and earning a grateful smile as he hugged Viggo tightly to his chest. They had been like that for a moment when there was a knock on the door, and Viggo stood apologetically, going to answer it.

"Johnny, hi. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, Vig, I just came to see how you were," Johnny explained, stepping inside when Viggo moved out of the way. Johnny lived in the building as well, though several floors up, and they had met somewhat by chance. Both enjoyed art, and so they had struck up a few conversations about that, which led to something of a friendship.

"I'm fine, Johnny. Rattled, but hanging in there. Do you know Sean?"

"No, can't say I do," Johnny replied, extending his hand and offering the man who had just stood from the couch a smile. "Johnny Depp. Pleased to meet you."

"Sean Bean. You live in the building as well?"

"Yeah, just upstairs. So do the cops have any leads yet? I just heard."

"Not yet," Viggo replied, going to get another teacup for Johnny. "We thought it might be Dominic Purcell, you know, a lot of people are kind of suspicious of him in general… but then Mia was murdered as well, by this woman she works with, and then the woman killed a girl Mia was interested in, and finally herself. It's too big of a coincidence, so we're thinking it must be her who killed Liev, as well. I guess the police will find out for sure."

"Well if you think you know something, you should let the police know," Johnny suggested, taking the cup of tea. "I mean, they'd be grateful to get the investigation wrapped up faster, I'm sure, and you could rest easy."

"Yeah… you're probably right. I'm just all out of sorts."

"Hey, that's what you've got friends for," Sean argued with a smile. "No one expects you to be yourself after something like this."

"I guess you're right," Viggo agreed with a small smile. "Thanks, Sean."

"Anytime."

 

Another two days after that, the police had been notified of the new information relating to the murders and had looked into both Dominic Purcell and Keira Knightly. Though the Keira theory made sense, Dominic seemed much more likely to be capable of murder. His military training was one obvious clue, as were some bruises on Keira's body that indicated a struggle. The police were sceptical that Melinda had been capable of inflicting such damage, especially considering the fact that she was shot at close range and Keira would've theoretically been planning the murder and not had much trouble about it, being armed.

The police also looked into Keira's background, and into the gun registration. She had apparently purchased the gun for protection after a history of domestic abuse, and learned to use it at a firing range where she still practiced regularly. However, since that incident, Ms. Knightly had only dated women, which seemed to negate the stalker theory. Dominic, therefore, appeared a much more likely candidate.

In the meantime, Viggo's stepbrother Dave flew in from Sydney, and Viggo couldn't help but notice how Sean seemed a little nervous around him. Sean had been spending quite a lot of time with Viggo, taking care of the other man, and making sure he didn't get too depressed after his lover's death. Dave clearly didn't trust Sean's motives, and once he was in New York, Sean found it next to impossible to get alone with Viggo. At one point, however, when Viggo was in the shower, Sean did manage to get alone with Dave.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Dave returned the insult with an easy smile, his ankle crossed over his knee on the couch, hands laced his lap. "My problem, Sean?"

"You heard me. You don't trust me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Never trust a beautiful man," Dave said simply, with another small smile, almost a smirk, and Sean narrowed his eyes.

"You're treading a thin line there, David."

"I like playing dangerously," Dave replied in what was almost a purr, standing from the couch and insinuating himself easily in Sean's personal space. The other man gulped and Dave could feel the heat where their thighs were pressing together. "And mum never taught me how to share my toys."

"You tricky bastard…" Sean murmured, but just then the shower cut off, and Dave stepped back, resuming his position on the couch and raising an eyebrow to caution Sean to be casual. The other man nodded, though he couldn't resist a small smile as he leaned against the wall, waiting for his friend to come out of the shower.

 

It took another couple of days for Dave to get Sean alone, but when that finally happened, it was rather explosive. In fact, Sean found himself quite unexpectedly on his back in his own bed, Dave looming over him with a seductive smirk before bending to nibble at his jaw.

"Jesus… you don't beat around the bush, do you?" Sean murmured as Dave's hands went immediately to the buckle of his belt.

"Rarely," Dave agreed, his hands deftly finding all of Sean's most sensitive spots as the man writhed and moaned under this tactile torture.

"You just doing this… fuck… to keep me away from your beloved brother?"

"Nah. You look pretty fuckable, too."

"Ta," Sean gasped as Dave got his trousers down and pressed a finger against his hole.

"Bottomed recently?"

"Enough."

Dave smirked and pulled the lubricant out of his back pocket. "Good, then you won't mind it a little rough."

"Always liked it that way meself," Sean agreed, and Dave smiled wider as he slicked up his fingers and slid two in this time.

"Good to know." Dave didn't waste too much time prepping him, but Sean was in no mood to complain, instead reacting enthusiastically when Dave rolled him onto his stomach, quickly sheathing his cock and pressing inside. It didn't last too long for Dave, and when he was through, Sean got a bit of a shock when he found his wrists suddenly locked behind his back with metal cuffs, Dave's movements much quicker than his own sluggish arousal-fogged reaction time.

"Um… bit kinky there, are you mate?"

Dave smirked and flipped the larger man on his back. "Something like that."

Sean eyed Dave nervously as he disposed of the condom, nodding at his own enduring erection. "Um… gonna help me out, here?"

"Oh sure," Dave agreed with a shrug and a smile. "As soon as you answer some questions of mine."

"Questions?"

"Yeah, Sean, you know, I've been going over some things in my head," Dave explained, leaning down to bite at Sean's nipples and prompting a moan that again relaxed Sean enough for Dave to thread his belt around the man's wrists, prompting him to sit up and then buckling the bound wrists to the spindle headboard before Sean really comprehended what was going on. Once Sean was restrained, however, the playful licks and sucks ceased completely, and Dave was standing, flipping the light on.

"I've been going over things," Dave continued, "and they just don't quite add up. You see, my brother's boyfriend was killed—strangled, he tells me—and then, a few hours later, my brother's friend was killed, just after my brother visited him. Now my brother tells me that _you_ were with him at the time, in fact, that you just happened to be at his apartment when he returned, just happened to _keep_ him in his apartment while the murder was happening…"

"What the hell are you playing at, mate? Cut the James Bond act and finish me off, yeah?" Sean suggested, a bit desperately, nodding at his crotch and struggling against the bonds around his wrists.

Dave just snickered, and shook his head. "I don't think so, Sean. Just remind me of something, now. Viggo told you something about Mia that day, didn't he? Something about who Mia was planning on seeing?"

"Yeah, she had some love interest, I don't know…"

"A female love interest, was it not?"

"I guess, Jesus, what the fuck does it matter?"

Dave smiled and sat calmly in a chair facing the bed, folding his hands in his lap. "What it _matters_ is, this love interest's name was Melinda Clarke. And Melinda _Clarke_ was the woman killed, supposedly by Keira Knightly, a couple of days after Mia died. Now when Melinda and Keira were found dead, you just _happened_ to be there with Viggo, explaining to him a rather foolproof theory involving jealousy and some sort of a stalker-style crush. But I find this a little suspect, mate."

"Look, Dave, you're off your rocker. I'm a friend of Viggo's!"

"A friend who suddenly became much closer when all this happened, and I'm sorry, but I'm not so trusting as my stepbrother. I don't believe in coincidence."

"What are you saying, Dave?"

"I'm _saying_ that the police don't think Melinda could've done this. I'm saying that they think Dominic Purcell is a much more likely suspect, and I'm inclined to agree. Interesting, isn't it, how you not only just happen to show up much more frequently as soon as people start dropping dead like flies, but how you also happen to shift from being quite smitten with my brother to suddenly taking it up the arse from me? Occurs to me that you might do that quite often… might in fact, be persuaded to seduce my brother in order to distract him from your lover Dominic's intentions. Do I near the mark?"

Sean smirked, though Dave could see something nervous in his eyes. "Perhaps. If it were true, do you really think I'd tell _you_?"

Dave shrugged. "Probably not. But eventually, you'll need food, water, the toilet… you'll crack, Sean. And I'm not so nice a man as I seem."

 

_Meanwhile, in Viggo's apartment…_

"Just a minute!"

Viggo hurried to the door, expecting Sean, and was surprised when he found Orlando Bloom, the extremely flamboyant and somewhat vapid kid from the second floor.

"Um, Orlando, hi, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, just wondering… have you seen Sean Bean lately?"

"Sean?" Viggo frowned. "A few hours ago… he went back to his apartment to take care of something, though. Could I help you with anything?"

"No, that's all right. Thanks, Viggo!" Orlando leaned forward quickly to buss the older man's cheek, living Viggo standing confused in his doorway as Orlando flitted off again.

"Strange kid…"

 

After an hour, Sean was a bit uncomfortable. His erection had eventually subsided, but his mouth was dry and he needed to pee. Dave, on the other hand, was waiting quite patiently, munching on a sandwich, well-established in his chair. He started a bit, though, when there was a knock on the door, and Sean smirked a bit.

"Ask who it is," Dave demanded, flicking a switchblade out in warning. Sean gulped and nodded.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Orlando Bloom, mate! Let me in, yeah?" Dave frowned, but Sean looked about as surprised as he was to have a visitor, so he walked to the front of the apartment and opened the door, leaving the chain lock on.

"Mate, Sean's a little indisposed right now…" he explained to the kid, dressed completely outlandishly in an orange-and-purple ruffled shirt and skinny straight leg jeans, his curls spilling in front of his face, eyes lined and the corners dabbed with glitter. In other words, not much of a threat.

"Look, I know what's going on," Orlando replied in a low tone, giving Dave a significant look and stepping very close to the crack in the door. "I know what Sean's up to, and I see you're trying to figure it out. Let me ask him a few questions—I won't try anything funny, yeah?"

Dave looked sceptical, but the kid appeared quite harmless, and in the end, he let him inside. "Five minutes."

"Agreed."

Orlando stepped inside the bedroom, and shut the door behind him. Sean frowned when the lithe young man approached the bed.

"Orlando."

"Hoping to see someone else?" Orlando grinned and stepped closer, trailing one hand up Sean's naked thigh. He eyed the man's limp cock and smirked. Sean's frown deepened.

"What do you want?"

"What I _want_, Seanie, is your boss. Or lover, whatever you're calling each other these days. I want him for my own. Give me that, and I'll get you out of this mess. I might even arrange to let you have Viggo. Dave's got a cruel look in his eyes, you know. I wouldn't want to mess with that."

"Go to hell," Sean spat out.

Orlando grinned broadly. "You first, mate. I hope you know you've just signed your own death warrant." And with that, and a look of pale fear in Sean's eyes, Orlando headed to the door. But before he turned the knob, he shot Sean a look of sympathy—or maybe of pity—over his shoulder. "You know, if you wanted him to yourself, you really should have killed Viggo when you had the chance. I guess you're going a bit soft."

 

As Orlando left the apartment, he gave Dave a truly frightening smile. "See that you go extra hard on him, mate," he said with a clap on the older man's back. And then he was gone, but not downstairs to his own apartment. It was in an entirely different apartment, rather, that he found the man he was looking for—Sean's lover, and yes, his "boss," the man from whom Sean had taken orders to seduce Viggo Mortensen and distract him from the deaths going on right before his very eyes.

"He's alone."

"And Sean?"

Orlando smirked. "He won't be a problem for you anymore."

 

Two hours later, Sean realised that his lover wasn't coming to rescue him. Orlando, the annoying kid who had been lurking around far too frequently as of late, had managed to convince the man Sean loved to double-cross him, to get to Viggo and leave Sean to fend for himself. Snarling, he finally told Dave the truth. Anyway, truth be told, he rather liked the redhead. Sean, after all, was no stranger to slightly psycho lovers. But by the time they reached the apartment, Viggo was gone.

 

In an apartment several floors up, Viggo watched as the two men engaged in a particularly erotic kiss, fondling each other's genitals, limp though they were. For two hours had given them plenty of time to get what Johnny wanted—Johnny Depp, the man who had killed Liev and Keira with his own hands, whose sidekick Melinda had met her unfortunate end after killing Viggo's friend Mia. Johnny was morally flexible, however, and had a limited capacity for remorse. What he did have a capacity for was desire, raw desire, and when Sean proved ineffective, he was happy to move onto Orlando, the stealthy and intelligent young man whose flamboyance provided a perfect cover. Orlando was an expert in erotic pain, and as Johnny sat in a chair in the corner, stroking his cock and telling Viggo the whole story, he watched Orlando bind and torture and flog and fuck the older man, the man who had been his obsession for weeks, months even.

Johnny wasn't stupid, after all. He'd seen how Liev was tied to the bed when he arrived, making it ridiculously easy to kill the man's lover. He knew Viggo would get off on this treatment, despite himself, and sure enough Viggo had trouble resisting the beautiful Orlando, his cock hardening as the young man straddled his thighs and rubbed himself against Viggo's cock, pinching his nipples to hard points and biting at his neck. And when Viggo finally cracked, begged them not for release from his bonds, but for another sort of release entirely, Johnny rose from his chair and walked over to the bed, tasting the sweet tears of Viggo's shame before he undid his bonds, knowing the man would not run. And then he helped Viggo to mount Orlando, to sink down onto his cock with legs wantonly spread. And then he slid his fingers up inside the tight, slick channel, and worked it further open until he too could fuck Viggo, until the man was a trembling, quivering, sticky mess. And now that they had both sated themselves, the two men kissed, letting Viggo watch, his cock still hard.

"Please," he whispered, barely audible. Johnny pulled back from the kiss and smiled, turned his head.

"It was good," Johnny admitted with a smile as he slowly dressed, then tossed Orlando his clothes. "Almost worth becoming a serial killer and all," he added, smile widening to a particularly ironic grin. "But I've got greener pastures to visit."

Viggo whimpered and curse as Johnny stroked the smiling Orlando's jaw, the two men leaving together. When Sean and Dave arrived to rescue him, they found the door wide open, both men gone now. The police tried pursuit, but the two young men evaded their net, and so Johnny and Orlando made it to the Canadian border before their faces could even make the wanted list, laughing and snogging in the backseat on the other side.

And back in New York, Dominic Purcell muted his television, went to his phone, and found that his name had been cleared in the murder case. Shaking his head, he hung up on the cop, went back to his program, and wondered in the back of his mind if that attractive but slightly ditzy Viggo guy might be free now.


End file.
